General Foolishness

For Valentine’s Day, J gave me the gift of being in bed

First off, shut your dirty little minds. This is about important things, like watching any of the Real Housewives without going downstairs. With our DVR I can’t watch TV in the bedroom without sitting through commercials and there’s no interactive guide which makes TV hard. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of gifts since a. I really don’t get worked up about Valentine’s Day and b. I had been buying myself prizes for weeks-about which I was not shy. But this morning? THIS morning? The hubs knocked one out of the pit. (Look at me using sports references Cubelic and the Kid.)

With this most perfect present, he literally gave me the gift of being in bed:

Praise the lord and cook some waffles-I can stay in bed and watch 30 Rock! The very best part is the remote comes with a safety strap attached so I can put that baby around my wrist and never have it get lost in the covers!

He also gave me a dozen of beautiful white roses, remembering I don’t like red, that he kept hidden in the house somewhere “you wouldn’t think to look.” I immediately guessed carhole and he said “no, really, somewhere you never look” and bratchild fessed that they were in the laundry room. It scares me. I feel like I need a bug out bag to go there.

I got J the Sterling Archer book that Facebook has been telling me he wants.

This, of course, led to much confusion at Barnes & Noble because they had it under non-fiction. As I pointed out to the very non-helpful Nook wielding associate, “OF COURSE I didn’t look in non-fiction. The book is written by a cartoon character-how much more fictional can it get without having unicorns pooping sparkles on the cover?”

Following this heart-warming exchange, I saw what I thought was a suspected terrorist. After the last time I reported someone for being a terrorist, you’d think I’d be a little more gun shy about throwing that label around. You would be wrong. The guy had a shaved head, a crazy bushy face-eating beard, a very large shirt and flip-flops. AND He as toting around what appeared to be an oxygen tank. After seeing his similarly suspicious friend, except he was wearing a suit and carrying a large, empty briefcase out of the bathroom, OF COURSE I THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO BLOW UP THE BOOKSTORE! Duh. My immediate thought process was 1. get bratchild out of the store, 2. ready phone for pics and videos to send to the newspaper and 3. oh shit, maybe I should let someone know the bookstore is going to explode.

So I went back to the non-helpful Nook wielding associate and told her the bookstore may be blown up by a secret terrorist cell. She was too busy offering free gift wrap to care. So I stalked the younger bushy-faced man around the store until I found him in Health & Fitness! Lord love a duck, I was SO relieved. When I went back to tell her we were all going to live, because obviously if someone is about to blow his ownself up, he doesn’t care so much about fitness, she was speechless. I’m choosing to think it was out of relief.

I’m going to need people with medical equipment to keep a note from their doctor pinned on them at all times. With like an official holographic seal. It would be better for everyone. Honest.

I also made him a pillow, got him the latest Tucker Max book and made a coupon. I’m not telling you for what so don’t ask. And now I am about to go be all romantical and sweet and ask him if he wants to watch Archer episodes in bed. That is not a euphemism.

MAYBE I will get a mini fridge disguised as a nightstand for Easter or Lent or something. Then I could stay upstairs all the time. Whoever now markets this totally owes me.

I cannot stop laughing over the terrorist stuff (that is the only time this statement has ever been made I am sure.) I once saw a kid leave his backpack next to a trash can at the mall and I FREAKED OUT. Of course the kid came running back out a few minutes later. I’m sure he didn’t want to lose his homework.